By Bob Kisiki
Growing up in Jinja, Irene knew her cousin Nauma as her social and moral compass. What Nauma did was worth doing; what she avoided, Irene avoided, too. Irene made friends whom Nauma approved of; no one came close to her if Nauma did not think fi t to hang around her little cousin Irene. That is how it was and Irene liked it that way.
Irene was a Primary Seven pupil when these events took place. Irene was walking home for lunch (the school was not far from home) one day when a familiar voice called out her name. It was Tasa, a close friend of Nauma’s. He came from a popular family around the street. You mentioned Tasa and everyone knew who you were talking about, mostly because it was a mixed-race family. Irene slowed down, so Tasa caught up with her.
“I have something I would like you to deliver to your cousin,” he said to Irene. She, however, said she was in a hurry, but she could see him later, after school, on her way home. Although he persisted, she refused and indeed ran off. But true to her word, on her way from school, she turned to their compound, which was right on the road home.
They ran a shop at the front and dwelt in rooms at the back. Tasa was there when she turned into the compound. He asked her to follow him behind.
“Meanwhile, the compound was full of girls, older women and other people; mostly family,” Irene says.
“They were there minding their business. I greeted them and entered the house.”
He led her to a room in what is commonly called the boys’ quarters and urged her to enter. Although she hesitated, he reassured her it was okay, so she entered.
He then began to look for whatever it was, as if it was “a coin in a dark, cluttered room”, as Irene put it. She grew nervous and told him she would wait outside, but again he told her to hold on.
“When I turned to get out, he suddenly leapt at me, pushing me onto the bed and pushing my skirt up! The fight began! I was screaming, telling him to get off me. I was already beneath him, his organ touching my privates. Although I wore knickers, he had shoved them to the side, seeking to penetrate me.”
The ordeal lasted quite some time, with her screaming and no one coming to her aid, but Irene eventually broke free. She fled the room. She ran all the way home, crying…
This girl was in Primary Seven like we have already said. She was only 13 and a virgin. She did not understand boy-girl relationships, sex or pregnancy.
As she ran home, she says, her mind was preoccupied with the fear that she conceived in that encounter! Her fear – her father would beat her to death for it. That is another story right there, but we will probably get to it later. She was only a child and a grown man in the neighbourhood attempted to rape her!
Irene says: “Nobody gave me a listening ear. Nobody was close enough for me to trust with that information. I didn’t feel protected.”
Let us talk a little more about this feeling protected, shall we? I will use another little story from when we were children to illustrate this point.
A renowned man in our village had told his daughters that if any of them got pregnant before marriage, she should just disappear from the village, or else he would kill her with his bare hands.
Before long, one of the girls indeed got pregnant and remembering their father’s threat, she decided she would neither keep the baby nor manage life away from home. So she took her own life!
When you give your children such ultimatums, you cease to be their protector. When you do not create a safe space for them to talk to you about the things that happen in their lives — both the good and difficult — you are not being protective.
When you do not show a genuine interest in their welfare, especially as girls, they will not feel protected, because you, their parent (I dare say especially you, the father), have not taken the trouble to show them that you will do everything and anything to ensure that they are safe.
It has been said before, but I will say it again here because I have no proof that when it was first said, everybody reading this article heard it said: Rapists have no label that shows them for the rapists they are.
Plainly put, anyone can turn out to be a rapist. Anyone! A parent, a sibling, a friend, a classmate, a spiritual leader and practically everyone else.
Yes, there are many good people around us who would never do such a vile thing, but they, too, have no labels, so we can never tell. The safe thing is for us to teach our girls to be cautious — not to avoid all people, for we live among people — but to be suspicious of certain things certain people say and/or do.
Put in a tight spot, a truly sweet person can be turned into a monster.
Irene says: “That’s why I know anyone can be a murderer. It only takes the right kind of push for one to kill. I can swear to you, and God forgive me, but I can kill a rapist. That’s how much I hate them.”
Think through that. Look here, talking sex is a huge trick. We all admit it. But it is the one thing we should never sweep under the proverbial carpet. Society is full of malevolent elements. People will seek to harm your child. You cannot afford to play safe, as your child roams the earth with a festering scar on her heart, that she wishes she could tell someone who cares.
Reality For Survivors
Rape is real. Rape is base; it is a horrid, beastly deed. And yet it persists in our society, like there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. Rape rages on for a number of reasons, including the fact that many victims fear to speak out, dreading the consequences of reporting the perpetrators and perpetuators of the vice.
They also do not speak out because of the inherent shame that comes with the act of rape, probably coming from how society views sex generally and violent sex in particular. But also, culprits’ families usually do not want to be seen in a bad light, so they sometimes threaten the victim with dire repercussions, should they speak out.
It becomes imperative, therefore, that you, the parent, take on this role of protecting your child and, even more importantly, making her feel protected.
The writer is a parenting counsellor and teacher
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